Tomorrow's Heroes
by sarahbearalove
Summary: Shepard's nerves are border line fried. She was brought back to life only for war, her closest companion is suffering from a grief she cannot pull him from and, to top it all off, her newest dossier recruit is way more than anyone signed up for. Why didn't they just let her stay dead? (ME2-ME3 femshep/garrus rated M for future ch's : mild violence&sexual themes.)


_I have spread my dreams under your feet;_

_Tread softly because you tread on my dreams_

W.B. Yeats

* * *

Light illuminated through the central panel of the station's main frame computer from the massive star the ship was orbiting around. It provided an eerie mood to the expansive observation deck while still leaving its occupant in relative darkness. Tangible and moving. She could not take her eyes off of the magnificent orb. The way its mixture of yellow, red, blue and green light bounced off the metallic walls of the room fascinated her and she couldn't help but follow the moving swirls of gas on its skin with her eyes.

_Truly beautiful. And huge… Is this sun almost a red dwarf? Is it nearing its end? …Is it close to death? _

It was this hypothetical question that reminded her that she had been summoned. Shepard. Humanity. Collectors. _Reapers_. These are the things that she should be focusing on. Not the irrelevant life span of one colorful sun shining outside her boss's window.

She moved her attention to the silhouette of a man in the center of the room. He was silent as he stared ahead of him, pondering life's mysteries, she could only assume. A tiny speck of red light shone bright from the tip of his cigarette, almost resembling a sort of mini me of the star in front of him, as he took a drag from it. It was funny how small and insignificant he looked before the enormous sun that was his fancy and in the direct center of his 'too big to make sense' control deck.

She supposed a man of his stature and the size of his ego would require him to sit in such a brooding ambiance day in and day out. Or maybe he just didn't notice that he was more or less a multi-billionaire hermit who spent his days staring at a sun, born out of an acid trip, pondering the many sunders of the universe.

_Still. Either way. Better off than me._

"Ah, Ms. Lawson. How good of you to join me," the _hermit _drawled as he twirled in his mechanical throne to face her. His hair was salt and peppered and his face wrinkled and dry. His eyes, an icy blue with a dark backdrop, took her in, forever calculating.

_I wonder if he was like this before he had a computer lodged in his cerebellum, or if it's just a side effect._

"Please. Sit."

_Probably._

Without hesitation, she found her seat. It was a few feet away from his and much less grandiose. Simple, leathered and black. In between them sat a rather hefty bottle of Serrice Ice Brandy and a shimmering case of fresh, rolled cigarettes on a fine glass table. She lowered into the chair without breaking eye contact.

"I was summoned?" she state, leaving the question of _why_ in the air.

"Yes," the Illusive Man answered, motioning toward the table in a way to signal to help herself.

Miranda obliged and poured herself a healthy helping of the liquor but decided to pass on the cigarette.

_I can never get the smell off of me… Best not._

Meanwhile, the Illusive Man pulled up a data feed onto the console before them. He scrolled down to the bottom and highlighted the last listing. "Here is the list of dossiers that I sent to Shepard not too long ago when she and I spoke."

He then chuckled and took a drink of his own glass of iced brandy, "By the way, quite the charmer, isn't she? The Commander?"

Miranda shrugged, "Indeed. She is not lacking for quirks. But I stand by what I said in the beginning of all of this. She is the ultimate leader. An icon. We need her." She concluded with a gulp from her glass.

"I agree. She is our best hope for humanity, maybe even the whole traverse," he spoke with certainty. "Now, all that must be done is for her team to be built and their resolve, solidified. There is no wiggle room for past relationships and old grudges. I believe that she understands that," The Illusive Man took a deep drag of his cigarette before continuing, "And I have no doubt in her ability to convey that to her team."

Miranda nodded thoughtfully, keeping her back straight, "The Commander keeps a tight ship, I am sure that everything will be ready when we have figured out how to enter the Omega 4 Relay."

"I am glad to hear it. Though I do have one concern… No, an inquiry of sorts," he flicked the ash off of his cigarette tip and grabbed the data pad. "Something that I'd like extensive reports on when it comes time."

The screen zoomed in on the dossier listing, focusing on the last recruit: The Warden.

_Wait a minute. I hadn't seen this name on the original listing._

"I do not expect that this one will be very much trouble, at least, not any more than the others you all have picked up on the way."

Thoughts of The Convict, Jack, and the recently acquired tank-bred Krogan, Grunt, came to mind and Miranda could feel a migraine coming on.

_I don't know if I could withstand another_. _But why a new dossier?_

"I want her to be observed. Studied. The Warden is an extremely interesting specimen. One this universe has never seen before. Her species has not been documented and we know less than nothing about her. Only that she is willing," he took another long drag of his cigarette.

"I want to know what she is capable of. I want to know if she will be of significant use for the future. This is about half of the reason why The Warden is a dossier in the first place. She has been holed up in Omega and has been tight with the port's leader, Aria T'Loak. There is no information on her except that she is ruthless, ancient and powerful. Her title is well known throughout the station but no one actually knows anything about her. And, of course, this intrigues me."

The Illusive Man stood and strolled slowly to the large window shutter and placed a hand on the outer framing so he could lean forward comfortably. He spared a glance toward Miranda, "I'd like to change that."

Miranda rose and nodded, "Once we have picked up The Warden, I will submit reports daily on behavior, combat skill and any cultural findings immediately."

He smiled thinly and looked at the genetically altered woman, his top lieutenant, with his strange, gleaming, cybernetic eyes, "Twice daily, Ms. Lawson."

A quick nod.

_More paperwork… Damn it all._

"Understood."

"Good. Then, that will be all," he concluded with a wisp of his fingers to the air.

Recognizing the clear dismissal, Miranda emptied her glass and was on her way before being stopped by his low, gravelly voice.

"Oh, Miranda. May I reiterate? We know nothing about this Warden other than she is in cohorts with Aria. I advise using discretion in your investigations."

"Of course, sir."

And with that, she walked with purpose down the hall leading to the shuttle to take her back to the _Normandy_. But, she couldn't stop her brain from whispering ominous thoughts back and forth like pinballs.

_An unknown woman of unknown origin and heritage with unknown ties to one of the most brutal leaders of the Terminus Systems and The Illusive Man has just commissioned us to go into Omega and just swoop her up? _

Miranda Lawson had a sinking feeling that this last recruitment mission was going to be a lot rockier than planned.

_I only hope that it's worth it._


End file.
